


Referential

by orphan_account



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws
Genre: Gunplay, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy considers sex about connections, and doesn't particularly like the idea of being forgotten. So he makes a move on Jason, figuring that while the Red Hood might kill him, he at least won't forget...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Referential

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt at the DCU ficmeme that somehow disappeared between me taking it on and finishing the fic, so either I imagined it ever existing or it got deleted.
> 
> I have to be honest and admit I don't like the Outlaws title, but the possibly-imagined prompt got the better of me and I ended up writing something for it anyway.

Referential

 

Jason finds Roy by accident on his way out. He has no interest in doing so, and even less once he turns a corner to find the archer sulking in a corner. For a moment Jason thinks Roy is smoking; is about to say something snide before his eyes adjust to the dimming light and he realizes the man is still just chewing on the same straw that had been in the fruity drink he’d ordered earlier.

Jason isn’t about to deny being surprised. Roy had been extremely interested upon learning Starfire was free, and the last time he’d seen them Starfire had been propositioning the redhead man, who didn’t seem to have any problems with it at all.

Roy is less surprised to see him, although his eyes dart curiously to the rucksack slung over Jason’s shoulder before going back to his face.

“Starfire kick you out already?”

“I wanted something different,” Roy says with a grin and a shrug. “She didn’t really take the rejection well.”

Which explains the handprint across Roy’s cheek, Jason realizes. He’s a little sad he missed that. “Idiot, turning down one of the few women who want a scrawny pale guy.”

Not that Jason is sure why Starfire had wanted Roy, but if she did that was fine. They could do what they wanted. He had places to be.

“I’m sure I could find plenty of people that want me.” Roy’s tone is totally certain.

“So your lack of partner is simply that you’re too lazy to look, gotcha.”

Roy shakes his head. “I was looking for something specific, actually.”

Jason snorts and turns to go. Let Roy sulk if he wants. Maybe the specific was his own palm or something, and he interrupted them. He should really be going.

He doesn’t get far when Roy clearing his throat in a quite pointed manner stops him. He turns back and waits. Better to let the idiot get his piece out than risk him following.

Roy is quiet for a long time, gnawing even more strongly on the straw than before. Jason waits as the man spits it out and tosses it on the ground. Littering. He should call Roy out on that, just on principle, but the man is speaking again and the words coming out of his mouth are enough to surprise even Jason. “I’m wondering whether you’ll murder me if I get on my knees and blow you right here.”

Jason hesitates. He’s dealing with Roy Harper, Arsenal. The man is all mouth and bark. He uses it to hide the fact that his bite is pretty poor, even though everyone already knows it. But the tone is too dark, and the hesitation was too long. Roy is serious, and Jason waits. Roy doesn’t like empty air, and he’ll elaborate given the chance and prompt.

“I was in that prison for a long time. The guards let people know exactly who I was. It’s lonely when everyone wants nothing more than for you to bleed out at their feet.”

“And yet you turned down a beautiful girl. She’s a decent fuck, you know,” Jason tries to expand the conversation. He shouldn’t be thinking about this, but Roy is staring at him, eyes bright and piercing, and Jason is sure that if he says he won’t kill him that Roy really will get on his knees. It’s an intriguing thought.

Roy shrugs. “I'm insecure, remember? Forgetting is bad for my ego.”

Jason snorts. “And you think I’ll remember you?”

Less hesitation this time. Roy takes a step forward, into Jason’s personal bubble. His hand slides around Jason’s back, not to pull the other man forward but to put his hand over the knife sheathed there. “Figure my chances are better with you. You’ve got a reputation for many things. Holding grudges in one of them, and I'm betting that means you’ve got a good memory.”

Jason stands there, feeling Roy’s hand on his back, firmly closed over his most readily accessible weapon. They both knew Jason has others, and hardly needs a weapon to kill someone even if he didn’t. It is easier, though, with a knife.

Easiest with a gun, though. Jason shifts, hand reaching smoothly and swiftly for his gun, the barrel pressing between Roy’s ribs in less than a second. Roy didn’t move, before or after, even though Jason knows he could have at least gotten out of the way. Weak from prison and always the worse hand-to-hand fighter, he would lose, but he doesn’t have to let himself get shot, either. Instead, Roy waits until the barrel is pressed against his side hard enough to hurt. Then he grins, teeth white in the darkness before he gracefully drops to his knees. “One gun’s the same as another.”

Jason doesn’t even have time to roll his eyes at the terrible pun, because Roy now has his hand wrapped around his GUN, eyes locked with Jason’s as he pulls it forward, into his mouth, tongue wrapping deftly around the barrel. Jason smirks, and grabs him by the hair, hard, and shoves the metal that much further down his throat. Roy gags once before tipping his head to the side as far as he can, adjusting for the change in height, lips stretched around the cold metal. Jason just holds his head and presses further, hard enough to make Roy wince as the steel hit his teeth.

“I don’t like games, Harper.” Jason’s voice is cold and serious, and Roy just nods once, as best he can with six inches of steel in his mouth and Jason’s hand painfully tight in his hair. His gaze is bright, and dark. No fear in his expression and Jason knows that whatever game Roy is playing, he doesn’t actually care if Jason is involved too. Without a word, he thumbs off the safety of the gun, sliding his finger over the trigger. Roy’s eyes go slightly wider but he doesn’t struggle or try to pull back. A good thing. Jason is not in a forgiving mood. He leans back slightly, against the wall, and relaxes his grip in Roy’s hair. “Show me what you can do if you’re so eager to play.”

Roy takes a deep breath, tasting metal and gunpowder in the air he draws in as he begins to do something he never thought he’d do in a million years. Blowing Jason Todd’s gun, figurative or literal. It’s a bit scary, he realizes as he slides his mouth back down over the metal, just how much he wishes this was the figurative one, and how little he cares that the tiniest twitch on Jason’s part would deprive him of a head. He’s drooling after a few minutes, jaw exhausted from the complete lack of give as he tries to take the entire barrel down his throat, Jason not giving an inch. He’d make Roy take the entire thing if it was possible. Instead, he settles for letting the archer work the barrel, bright silver disappearing and reappearing from between the redhead’s hollowed cheeks. This is utterly stupid and ridiculous. And it’s having exactly the effect on him that Roy was hoping for, and they both know it.

Jason barely manages to control his breathing as slides the gun back up to Roy’s temple, leaving a wet trail behind, watching as Roy as much leans into the metal as anything else. There isn’t any fear in Roy’s eyes. There wouldn’t be, Jason reflects. A quick death, or even a slow and painful death, aren’t the things Roy Harper fears. It’s being abandoned, failing, being alone.

He takes a deep breath, and shifts on the trigger, testing the theory. “Bang,” he whispers, the noise sharp in the quiet air of the beach.

Roy’s reaction isn’t to flinch away. Instead he shudders along his whole body, fingers clenching painfully tight into his thighs. “Jay…”

That does it. Jason’s duffle hits the ground with a dull thud with the gun on top of it, safety back on. Jason’s back meets the hut wall and his hands drop to his side. “No more wondering, Harper. I won’t murder you.” For this, at least. Maybe for something else.

Roy doesn’t wait for Jason to change his mind. He just surges forward while still on his knees, hands at Jason’s fly, and Jason is quite certain this proves anything he ever thought about Roy being desperate and pathetic. And he doesn’t care when Roy wraps a hand around his cock, coaxing it to full hardness before leaning forward and taking it into his mouth.

All the way into his mouth and down his throat, Jason realizes as he bites back a groan, his hand finding its way back into Roy’s hair. Not forcing anything, for now, just resting there while Roy swallows him down to the root with seemingly no effort. Roy’s got his tongue doing something Jason can’t quite comprehend while the muscles of his throat contract around the head of Jason’s cock. Jason wonders for a moment where Roy could have possibly learned this, and then decides he doesn’t want to know. Because there’s only a few logical options for someone with a history like Roy’s, and his image of the archer is already bad enough.

Then he just doesn’t want to think about it at all, because Roy is trying something new, pulling back to suck on the head, tongue pushing at the opening while his hand makes rough strokes near Jason’s body. Briefly, Jason’s knees go weak before he catches himself, shifts and locks his legs. Roy grins around the length in his mouth, even as he shoves his hand down his own pants, fisting his own erection with far more force than he’s applying to Jason. He lets himself groan as he touches himself, guessing the vibrations will work for Jason too, knowing he guessed right when Jason bites back another sound, the hand in his hair tightening almost painfully.

Honestly, the noises Jason is making would have made Roy laugh under any other circumstances, but there was far too much going on in his head to think about that, with Jason’s cock hot and wet on his tongue and hard under his hand. This is ridiculous, he knows. Had been ridiculous from the get-go, but it does seem unlikely that Jason will forget the man who made his knees go weak, so Roy just keeps going. Pulls back, and looks up at Jason for a moment with a slight smile on his lips and a wicked, dark expression in his eyes.

"It's alright," Roy says, "you can do what you want."

There is something wrong with that statement, Jason thinks. Usually what he wants to do is kill Roy, or at least beat some sense into him. At that moment, he can’t quite bring himself to care. He just nods, clasping each side of Roy’s head in a tight grasp and angling the archer’s head to find the correct angle as he began to thrust firmly, fucking Roy’s throat as easily as if had been a woman's body, more easily. Roy can’t move, and he doesn’t try to do anything more than he did with the gun. His throat will hurt in the morning, but he'd worry about that then. Or maybe never. With the way Jason was looking at him, eyes wide and burning, he wasn't going to worry about any pain the man dealt him ever again. Not that he’d spent a lot of time fantasizing about Jason Todd until 20 minutes ago, but the look Jason has on his face right now is better than any fantasy Roy could have mustered up on his own. He breathes with the thrusts, sucking in air in the brief moments when Jason pulls out, all-to-brief doses of oxygen before Jason sheathes himself again. Almost desperately, Roy works his hand over his own erection while letting Jason use him.

Jason stares down, not sure if he’s angry or just more turned on than he’s been for a long while. He slows for a moment, pulling Roy against him, thrusting as deep as he can down the archer’s throat and just holding him there until he begins to shake and then releasing him to gasp for air. Jason gave him only a few moments to recover before starting the cycle again, fucking the man's throat hard and deep and without any mercy, and Roy doesn’t really seem to be asking for it in this any more than he does in life. They’re both losing it, Jason realizes. On his next thrust, Roy reaches up, actually pulling him in harder and holding him there longer. His throat muscles spasm around Jason, protesting the actions of the very person they belong to, and Roy just drives himself down further, pushing himself. Pushing Jason.

“Roy, I...” Jason starts to say something and then stops in favor of just pulling Roy forward and holding him there as he comes with a long shudder, directly down the archer’s throat while Roy continues to work at him, swallowing spastically. He stays there, shuddering, until Roy finally does remember that he needs oxygen, pushing against his thighs. Almost unwillingly Jason lets him go, and Roy rocks back on his heels. Grins up at him while he wipes his own hand on his jeans and rolls to his feet, slightly unsteadily. He stares at Jason for a long time, Jason staring back, before Roy nods in what seems to be satisfaction. Silently, he bends down to pick up Jason’s dropped duffle bag, handing it over. The question is back in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask.

“Have a good trip!” is all he says, leaving Jason to stare at his back in shock as he walks back towards the huts.

“Fucker,” Jason replies. “I’m not going to forget this.”

Roy grins. “Mission accomplished.”


End file.
